


All That Has Been Forgotten

by dan_vs92



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amnesia, Anxiety, Hair Pulling, Head Injury, M/M, PTSD symptoms, Pre Fiddauthor, Self Harm, Technical kiddnapping, bill messes everything up, memory gun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:52:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dan_vs92/pseuds/dan_vs92
Summary: Deep in his lab Ford longs to remember the past to escape the present and trapped in his nightmares Fiddleford longs to forget that past to move on to his future.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in feb after reading this fic: http://memyselfandyoutube.tumblr.com/post/143279999405/fresh-start
> 
> So yeah some of this doesn't quite fit into the canon of the journal, sorry about that.

-All That Has Been Forgotten- 

\---   
Alone. That word so perfectly defined Stanford Filbrick Pines’ existence. Sitting alone in the lab that once housed his legacy but had become his tomb. He didn’t bother pouring the expensive brandy that he had gifted him when they were filled with hope and happiness as a celebration gift for the device that sat in front of him that marked his grave site; he drank straight from the bottle with only his paranoid thoughts to accompany him. They haunted him more effectively then the dream demon he knew was watching him, waiting for him to slip up, surveillancing him behind every eye he foolishly set on pedestals and into the very architecture of his home. 

He turned his head sideways towards the box he had scavenged from the bunker earlier, where he had found the brandy with a loving ‘Congratulations’ note hanging from it, it was all he had left of Fiddleford. His closest friend, no his mind quickly corrected him, his only friend. The only one he ever truly had in this home. The only one he had since Stanly had betrayed his trust. The gentle, sweet man who made him smile when things weren’t going to plan. The one who brought him coffee on those late nights when he refused to sleep until he got his work done and he was always the one who lovingly draped blankets over him when his pursuit of knowledge fueled by coffee lost the battle to his exhaustion. 

He smiled sadly pulling the box closer to him, he never deserved that man. 

Maybe it was the alcohol powering his inadequacies and failures but he could admit freely that he had hurt him. On more than one occasion. Sweet, kind, gentle, loving, naïve Fiddleford Hardon Mcgucket was never cut out for this weird world he had dragged him into. His kindness and loyalty to him had destroyed him in the end and Ford knew there was no going back from there. Fiddleford’s hatred, if he felt it, was warranted and justified in the end. 

There wasn’t much left for him to find that belonged to his friend, old blue prints, maps, pens and a safety precaution poster he had hung up in the bunker reminding Ford of the importance of goggles, gloves (lovingly hand crafted for him by his friend) lab coats and his beloved Cubics Cube but at the bottom of the box was something was something that held his friend’s very soul. He picked up the brief case, inside it was Fiddleford’s legacy. The piece of machinery he had been working on since college, the key to man kind’s progression he always told him. It was a waste of his intelligence Ford had thought then as he thought now, why did the world need personal computers? Computers were a tool for science what would the everyday person need one for? 

But even as useless as he thought this paper weight was, it still held an important significance to Ford. Inside this piece of machinery held Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket’s personal thoughts and ideas and hopes and dreams. Cracking it open would be like cracking open his friend’s brain and seeing his inner workings. The numbers and codes that made up this waste of effort were no different than his own research, they held a piece of their creator inside them and Ford now more than he had ever needed to see that.   
He popped the lib of the briefcase up, powered on the device and began running every option through his head of what the password could possibly be through his mind staring at the eight blank lines.   
\---   
On the other side of Gravity Falls away from Stanford Pines and his desire to remember the past, another man paced nervously around his kitchen in his well sized bachelor pad wanting nothing more than to forget it all. 

Fiddleford bit into his lip and took another deep breath trying to calm down. He hadn’t slept in a few days, he couldn’t sleep, he felt like he would never sleep again. The loud dinging of the microwave startled him and he bit harder into his lip to suppress the urge to flinch. He took a deep breath and took the left overs out and sat at the dinner table, picking at his food. 

He sat alone at the small table just staring at the dishes in the sink, he needed to wash them like he needed to do laundry and he needed to eat; this was the third night in a row he had picked at his food and he just needed to sleep. He pushed his spaghetti he had made days ago away from him and blinded himself with the palm of his hands. He couldn’t unsee it. What lurked on the other side of the portal hid behind every thought, crept into every dream and slowly bleeding his sanity dry. He just wanted to forget. The eyes that watched him, the eyes that Stanford had displayed with loving admiration and pride. The claws, just like those of the gremloblin had held his head and he looked into those eyes and made him see a hellish future, the end of mankind, the end of the world. The end in biblical proportions, hell on earth. And the real kicker, the thought his abused mind always circled back to, it was all his fault. He’d done this. 

Tears began streaming down his face once more, it was all his fault. He’d personally sealed this world’s fate making that machine that by his calculations was getting more and more unstable with each passing day. If it was activated again at just the right time, a rift would break and all would be lost. He’d predicted something of the sort when designing it, but he’d trusted Stanford when he told him it was a possibility they could control, he knew better now, there was no controlling it. 

Six months ago, the future had seemed so bright. Recently divorced from a marriage that was never meant to last he thought Ford calling him with a job offer was a sign. A sign that good things would finally be coming his way. His love for his friend that had always been there resting soundly in his mind and soul, no matter how much he tried to reason he could love his wife the same, it never was true. Stanford Filbrick Pines was the force that drove him forward and made him want to better himself, it was a mere challenge when he thought his home computers were useless. He would show the man who held his heart that they were important, how they could drive his grander project forward faster and more efficiently than any other tool at his disposal and in the process finally earn the right to be called his equal and in the back of his mind he kept his fingers crossed for the chance of Ford loving him the same. 

It was a foolish dream. 

He was content with the family he had left behind, he should have stayed there. He glanced over at the picture of his son hung with care and pride on the fridge, he loved his son more. He had ruined the grand future that poor little boy had in front of him. He sighed, he was Icarus and he had flown too close to the sun. He wanted too much, Stanford’s love, a legacy to be proud of, a friendship with his ex-wife and a place forever in his son’s life. 

His son was supposed to be coming down here to spend the summer with him, like he’d done the summer before. Everything was as bright and warm as the weather then, him with the two men he loved most in this world together down by the lake, fishing without a worry in the world. He should have seen the warnings signs of the problems on the horizon when that beautiful day had turned into another disastrous monster hunt that ended with many promises from his boy to not tell his mother. That was so long ago though, he was filled with hope and forgiveness then. How could he take Tate again when he couldn’t take care of himself right now. How could he take care of his boy? 

How could he have joint custody like they agreed if he was falling apart at the seams? He hadn’t eaten in three days, hadn’t slept in five and he was barely keeping it together. How could he seek new employment in the state he was in? The money he had saved up wouldn’t last forever, this month his rent was paid, would it be next month? How could he fix his mistakes? There was no undoing what he’d done, he’d opened Pandora’s box and there was no way of sealing it now. He had sealed all their fates, his son’s, his ex-wife’s, this town’s, this world’s and it was all Stanford’s fault. He hated that man for putting him in this situation that was spiraling out of control, he hated him for turning him away and not wanting to attempt to fix the problem. He hated him for never listening to him. 

He was sobbing now, for all his bravado, he hated himself more because there was no hating Stanford Pines. 

There was no hating his smile. 

There was no hating his corny jokes after hard days when he needed them the most. 

There was no hating how he stood between anything that had ever tried to hurt him even if he was the one who put him in that situation to begin with. 

There was no hating that content smile he wore after he finally fell asleep after days of hard work. 

He couldn’t hate him no matter how desperately he wanted to but there was always forgetting him. He couldn’t forgive what he’d done, he made him have a hand in a doomsday device and then just expected him to be OK with it still intact down there, a ticking time bomb that was going to explode eventually. There was no fixing this problem, there was no convincing Ford his legacy must be destroyed, he wasn’t strong enough to take it down by force on his own. Ford was bigger and stronger then he would ever be, he didn’t need physical scars that would never heal to accompany his mental ones. 

He could do nothing but wait and if that was the case he would rather wait in the dark with the rest of the world. 

He wanted to find some peace in ignorance. He just wanted to sleep, to eat, to smile again, to be able to take care of his son this summer. 

He hiccupped out another sob sinking once more into his despair, he just wanted to forget. 

\--- 

Ford racked his brain for the possible answer for this riddle before him. What would Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket use as his password? Eight letters. It couldn’t be his son’s name, not enough letters. He had always had a high level of pride for their run down joke of a college they attended but that was too many letters. He stretched backwards in his chair, cracking his back and took another swig of the brandy. He had a dog a few years back, what was its name? He was always telling him about how well it and Tate got along. He’d taught it to sing along with his banjo. 

Annabell! That was right. She was a rescue dog he’d found on the side of the road, his wife had a fit when he dragged home the massive Great Dane from what he’d heard, fearing it would harm the baby but supposedly she grew to love the old thing. Fidds took that dog everywhere, she was a member of the family he was always told and as a member of the family she had a right to the family trips. He took it hard when she died and kept a picture of the damn dog in his wallet. It was old and in bad shape, passed away the year before the divorce was finalized. He never thought he would hear the day that Fidds would be leaving Gina, he always assumed they were happy, they were each time he saw them together but he was no one to judge on the matter. Last he heard she was happily settled down in California still and they still held a strong friendship after it was all said and done so maybe it just wasn’t meant to be from the start. 

Fidds grieved the dog’s death harder than the death of his marriage, it had to be the dog’s name. 

He typed in the dog’s name and scowled at the flashing red telling him he was wrong. His mother, it had to be his mother’s name. Why would it be a dog’s name? Yes, he loved that dog but not more than his mother. Fiddleford was a mother’s boy, he had to call her every day in college. He would be hard at work focusing on midterms and Fidds would be telling his mother about every non important, trivial thing that had occurred in the twelve hours since he last talked to her. With a smug grin he typed in Abbigail thinking he’d just cracked the easiest code that had ever been lain before him. As he clicked enter, he leaned back with pride, the alcohol was clouding his senses if he couldn’t think of the obvious solution to this problem. His Fiddleford was a brilliant man but he was so pre--- 

His thoughts halted and his shoulders caved in as he stared in awe at the red letters once more. This would take more effort than he had originally thought. 

Several tries later and he was met with the same error screen. He groaned, resting his head against his palms, moving them up to tug at his hair in annoyance before letting them flop limply to his sides. He was getting tired of trying and the alcohol was lolling him asleep, with blurry eyes, taking a wild guess he typed in his name.   
It was a stretch, an inaccurate one too probably. He was prepared to see the error screen once more and that’s when he was going to call it a night and go pass out in his bed to have his first night sleep in days. As he was packing up to leave the screen caught him by surprise. He was given access to the devise, a large printed ‘WELCOME BACK’ inviting him inside. 

A fire ignited in his heart and spread through his blood stream stimulating his thoughts, he began seeing everything with new eyes. Fiddleford’s gentle fingers as he cared for him after he got a nasty gash facing against one of the creatures that lurked in this forest. It was a minor injury but Fidds had insisted on staying by his side and forfeiting an entire night of sleep making sure he was alright, checking the scratch every few minutes to make certain it hadn’t bled anymore and didn’t need stitches. The blush that lit his entire face red when he said ‘I love’ after trying on the truth teeth. The warm summer night they had spent with Tate on the lake, Fidds patching him up chewing him out for getting them in that mess, but his fingers were tender and gentle through the whole procedure. When Tate told him to kiss it better and he once more glowed red but complied to the request with a sweet kiss to the wound that Ford couldn’t say why he had liked at the time but he could now. 

Fiddleford loved him, more than just as his friend and he loved him back. He closed the computer he had been working on cracking for over two hours now, a warmth radiating through him as he travelled up to the main part of his house and up the stairs to his room, collapsing on the bed. 

He was going to make this right, he swore closing his eyes, he was going to fix this. He and Fiddleford were going to be happy. He was going to make it up to him. He would beg, crawl on his knees, anything to make him happy. Anything to make up for his mistakes. He knew the one thing that would fix everything would be destroying the portal but he couldn’t destroy their legacy like that. They could fix it together; he knew they could. They would make this right; they would defeat Bill playing his own game.   
He fell asleep that night content for the first in days, he wasn’t fixated on the mistakes of the past but on the promising beautiful future that lay before him and Fiddleford.  
\---   
As Ford’s heart began inking a new narrative in his newly love struck conscious, Fiddleford was erasing himself from that narrative. 

His breath shook as he set up the camera and picked up the devise, he had hand crafted himself for this very task. He wanted to live without this intense guilt, without these nightmares, without these intense conflicting feelings. He just wanted to be free. Once he was set free and there weren’t any side effects attached to this devise, he could begin helping others free themselves too. He’d seen firsthand what this town and its strangeness could do to a person, if he was successful, they too could live in the shadows and bask in their ignorance if it was what they desired. 

He had made this devise months ago, not long after the first creature had left scars in his heart. The nightmares and trauma from that incident still haunting him, but he foolishly listened to Ford when he demanded him not to use it but he couldn’t destroy it. He hid it away for a rainy day when he couldn’t handle the stress anymore, the day he didn’t trust Ford’s words any longer that he couldn’t keep going without using it. 

Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket was a naïve fool and always was when it came to Stanford Pines, he always blindly followed every word that fell from his mouth. They were at one point in his life his gospel, if he believed and put forth blind faith in them they would never deceive him. 

His faith in his words only left him blind to the warnings engraved in tapestry and stain glass and sculpted in gold, there was something very unholy and inhuman whispering into Stanford’s ears giving him the ideas for his research. Fidds didn’t know what that creature was but he knew it was watching him now standing in his study indecisive and afraid to act. 

He knew it watched him through the eyes he had been compelled to draw a few nights ago after the last batch of nightmares. He’d drawn thick red X’s through each eye to hinder its vision but he knew it was always there. 

His teeth sank into his lip and his hands tightened in his hair as he sank into the floor, tears fogging his sight. 

Ford’s inhuman eyes, an evil smirk on his face, it couldn’t just be the lighting and his imagination? 

“Where are these ideas coming from?” 

Those inhuman eyes boring into him, holding him in place as the blood raining from the heavens disorientated his senses. He just wanted to leave but Ford kept him in place promising it will only be a few minutes longer…. 

Where are these ideas coming from? 

Calculations Fidds couldn’t keep up with, trying to reason they were unstable but Ford’s words blinding his logic.   
Where are these ideas coming from? 

The eyes that were everywhere, keeping a close eye on them both, Fidds felt a shiver run down his spine as he worked in Ford’s private study and felt each one of those eyes burning holes into him. 

Where are these ideas coming from? 

That reassuring pat that sealed society’s fate and those kind, words full of false comfort and misplaced trust, “Never mind Fiddleford, I’ve got everything taken care of.” 

He crumpled onto the floor sobbing, his hands managing to pull out a few strands of hair the harder he tugged. 

He just wanted to forget…. 

The clocks ticking began washing away his hiccupped sobs and silent pleas for it all to stop as he began to calm opening his clutched fists and shaking the hair caught between his fingers onto the carpet. 

He dried the tears with the back of his sleeve and took a deep breath. He couldn’t live like this any longer, he wanted to sleep, he wanted to eat, he wanted to smile, he wanted to be alive again. He looked up at memory gun on his desk, this was the only way. 

He took a deep breath, taking a momentary break to clean himself up in the bathroom; this was the only solution he reasoned. Taking deep calming breaths as he straightened his cloths and his hair to make himself look more professional. 

He didn’t need to be reminded of his haggard appearance and sanity barely hanging on a piece of thread when he reviewed the videos in the future, he needed these videos to keep track of his current health and make certain there were no lingering side effects. 

He was going to make a difference in not only his own life but others people lives as well. No one deserved to live like this, for once in his life he was making a difference. This was him fixing his wrong. 

He was filled with new determination as he reentered the study and turned on the camera. 

“My name is Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket,” he began just as he had rehearsed, “And I wish to forget.” 

He’d practiced his lines in front of the mirror for days for the greatest piece of acting he would ever witness, convincing himself he didn’t love Stanford, he meant nothing to him, he was just some stranger. He didn’t smash his heart or destroy his mind, he was just some strange man he worked for. He meant nothing. 

And soon he would be something that meant nothing to him. This choice held so many sacrifices, he wasn’t just getting rid of the ill thoughts and bad memories. He would no longer remember the late nights with his best friend in college. Both huddled up on Ford’s bed, a tower of books looming over them studying for advanced classes, correcting and editing each other’s thesis’s, putting together the final parts to their group projects. Fidds slowly falling more in love with the man who would one day destroy him each day, he would never love him back and having to settle for a girl his parents pressured him into marrying. 

He knew he would never again meet someone else who brought him to a higher plane of existence like Stanford Pines but he would also never find anyone who could tear him down the way he did either. 

He shoved his conflicted feelings back knowing all the pain in this world would be gone once the deed was done. He kept everything vague and pretended not to know the man who held his very soul prisoner because in a few moments he would be free. 

No more pain. No more suffering. No more Stanford Filbrick Pines. 

He pulled the trigger and it all went terribly wrong. A pain laced through his neurons, making him collapse on the floor convulsing in agony as if someone were smashing his skull in with a brick. He clung to his head and screamed, tears flowing freely as he sobbed. He clung to his hair tugging and ripping out a handful as he sobbed and moaned in agony.   
Just as suddenly as the pain had started it ended, Fidds’s limp hands falling away from his scalp strands of his chestnut hair threading through his fingers as they twitched for a minute before going still. 

Fiddleford finally got the full night’s rest he had so desired unconscious on his study floor, the camera still recording the now dead room. 

\--- 

As the morning rays broke through Fiddleford’s study to the crime scene his body had not moved from, Stanford was waking up with a pounding head and a churning stomach.   
Ford staggered into the bathroom and began throwing up the copious amount of booze he had consumed the night before. He vowed to never drink again as he rested his splitting head on the toilet seat. 

After rinsing his mouth with water, he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the generic mouth rinse, attached to it was sticky note, Fidds’s neat and tidy hand writing reminding him to take care of himself. He set the bottle aside and pulled the note from it and sank on to the toilet seat. 

“Please remember to use this, I don’t enjoy smellin’ your possum breath while I try to work. Love, F.” 

A smile began creeping across his lips, the memory of his discovery creeping back into his mind, Fidds loved him and likely always had. He was going to make this up to Fidds, he had to. 

He rose from the toilet seat and stripped off his clothes and hopped in the shower for the first time in a few days. 

As the warm mist began working its magic un-tensing his limbs and alleviating his pounding head, his mind began to wander back to Fidds. 

Fiddleford always the kind roommate picking him up burgers from his favorite restaurant every time he was too busy cramming for exams to leave the dorm but thinking back Fidds never bought himself anything, only his coffee over loaded with enough sugar to keep him wired long enough to get through one more paper. 

Fiddleford the man who dropped everything after a nasty divorce just to help him make his dream a reality. He stayed with him even after incidents like the Gremloblin which would have made anyone less loyal leave that very day. Regret began once more piling up inside him, how could he let him go like that in the state he was in? Why would he listen to Bill over his only true friend? 

He was never letting Fiddleford Hadron Mcgucket go again, he swore.   
\---   
Knowing Fidds couldn’t resist his sweets, Ford made a pit stop at Fidds’s favorite café, picking up a dozen donuts and a coffee made just the way he liked it as a peace offering to get in the door to plead his case to his friend (who may be more then that one day) in privacy. 

He took a deep breath before knocking on the apartment door. Unsurprisingly, no one answered. 

He waited a few more minutes and knocked a few more times and was still met with no answer. He shifted his arm full of treats in his arms, he was becoming impatient and was considering just leaving. Maybe he was just wasting his time, there was no way Fidds would want to speak to him. 

Not so soon after their fight and the things he told him, maybe not ever. He had told him he wasn’t needed, he could just imagine Fidds peeking through the peep hole and ducking down the instant he saw his face not interested in anything he had to say or the treats he had brought for him. 

He almost turned away and left but something wasn’t sitting right with him. There were newspapers stacked against his door, probably brought to him by the kind woman next door and he just left them out? That didn’t seem like his friend at all… 

He had never been one to question his actions and now wasn’t any different. He kicked the welcome mat aside and pulled the key he knew was there from underneath it.   
Once inside he only felt more concerned by the bad state of his friend’s home. A week’s worth of garbage piled by the door, he smelled the brewing coffee in the kitchen toppling over the wretched smell of garbage. He had never seen Fidds living conditions become this bad. 

He walked into the kitchen and dropped the sweets on the table for now and stood in the kitchen waiting for Fidds to show up but when he didn’t he decided to look for him not wanting to put off his apology any longer. 

He made a face at the piling dishes and half eaten food abandoned on the table and wondered how Fidds could have gotten this bad. 

The last he had been to this place two weeks ago; it had been spotless. Fidds had lead him through the home he had recently moved into to continue to help Ford in his endeavors but be separated enough from the supernatural to try to calm his nerves enough to enable him to work. He had a dazzlingly bright smile blinding Ford’s worry of him abandoning the project entirely as he promised he would come back to the cabin early every day, he could trust him, he would never abandon him. 

The past week he had felt he had broken that promise walking out the way he had but taking in the state of his home, he felt a stab of regret knowing it was the other way around. His pace was slow as he exited the kitchen but the sight of the living room and adjacent hallway made his heart skip a beat. 

The family photos of family members Ford had always had trouble keeping track of that lined the walls were in disarray, some knocked off their previous spot on the wall and broken on the floor amidst the chaos, all having similar thick red lines through their eyes. Fear and worry tangled tighter in his stomach and he quickened his pace, desperately looking for his friend. 

The fact that he had yet to see Fiddleford, every call of his name being ignored, and his keys sitting untouched on the kitchen counter suddenly made Ford’s body go rigid with fear and worry. He prayed he hadn’t turned up too late as he opened the bedroom door finding it just as disastrous as the rest of the house with his bed unmade and hand drawn eyes with thick red X’s scratched unevenly through each of them coating the floor, half crumpled. 

At the end of the hallway was Fidds study Ford remembered walking into a few times since he had moved in here, always finding his friend half asleep slumped over the blue prints he always had to check once more before they took another step forward in their endeavor. He paused in front of the door, hand shaking on the door knob trying to pull the wool over his own eyes for just a moment and convince himself Fidds was behind this door, sound asleep, computer designs littering his work space and a small content smile on his face that would be replaced with a stern frown when Ford woke him. Maybe he would be just as horrified at the state of his apartment, maybe only wish to begrudgingly hear him out because he needed his assistance in ridding his home of a poltergeist. 

Ford vowing to listen to his concerns, proving to him they could stabilize their legacy and be happy. Fidds learning to trust him once more as they dealt with this problem plaguing him on a whimsical adventure ending with one of them finally leaning forward to share a kiss after their rushed admittance of their feelings before the séance. Living a happily ever after together you would find before the credit role of any good movie. 

None of those things happened when Ford finally found the courage to creek the door open. 

The room itself was pristine and well-kept compared to the state of the rest of the home, almost untouched. It was a stark contrast to the ragged form of his dear friend unmoving on the ground. 

Before he had the chance to take of this in, he was at Fidds’s side, gently turning him onto his back to get a better look at him. Checking his pulse first and not liking how slow it was. His complexion was flushed and clammy, dried blood like chipping paint on his face, his fingers sticky against his sweat soaked skinned as he turned his head searching for any injuries. 

He made a short mental note of the memory gun lying next to him, that Fidds promised him he would destroy but hadn’t it seemed. He couldn’t dwell on that now, he would ask Fidds about it later and ask why he thought it was a good idea to use that dangerous devise on himself without any one around later. 

He wasn’t as gentle as he had tried to be when he pried open Fidds’s eye lid taking note of the completely dilated irises, when Fidds began to squirm underneath him. Half formed moans staggering out of his mouth, his body shaking as he tried to move. 

“Fidds,” Ford commanded as soothingly as he could, pressing his hands against Fidds’s cheeks trying to garner his full attention. Another half formed, pained moan was his only response. 

“Shh, its ok. Try not to move, I don’t know how much damage you did to yourself.” 

That was the detail that was hitting Ford the hardest, there was no one to blame but Fiddleford. He’d done this to himself after being warned this was a possibility. He knew he couldn’t take the full blame though, even if he had pulled the trigger, Ford knew he had been the one who lead to this rash decision. He should have stopped him when he left knowing how upset he was and he should have known to accompanied Fidds in order to make certain the devise was destroyed. 

“Do you know who I am Fidds?” 

Fidds didn’t answer, but his fear of the situation and lack of familiarity of the man taking care of him spoke for him. Ford was as gentle as possible as he turned his friend’s face towards him, ignoring the gargled moans of protest. 

His movement was sluggish, his eyes remained clamped shut, rippling softly the harder he tried to keep them closed against the blaring light and he seemed too disoriented to answer any of Ford’s questions. 

Ford admitted defeat, settling back some to give Fidds some room to breathe and let him curl into himself for the moment while he considered his possibilities. He rubbed soothing circles in Fidds back as he gasped in pain, trying to help him relax some, he didn’t know what side effects his friend was suffering from but they seemed to be giving him plenty of discomfort. He picked up the memory gun from the ground and stashed it in his pocket to further investigate later. 

Giving Fidds and himself momentary reprieve from the situation at hand, sat back on his haunches and took a deep breath trying to think through his panic and form a plan. A blinking light ahead of them caught his eye and he turned his head towards the camera silently watching and recording them. He rose and took the heavy camera from its tripod, he had no need for the bulky machine Fidds had excitedly told him was the latest model, but he might have use for the tape inside it that would tell him exactly went on the night this accident had occurred and give him an estimate of how long Fidds had been lying here, alone and hurting. He pocketed the tape and tossed the camera on the desk before returning to Fidds’s side. 

He couldn’t leave Fidds here like this and while it was uncertain for now how his side effects would progress, he didn’t like the idea of leaving him in the hands of strangers. His opinions on many of the townsfolk wasn’t high including even the supposedly educated ones, he couldn’t trust them not to treat his friend and then just cast him out on the streets while he was still very ill. 

He hefted Fidds off the ground and even though he was trying to be delicate with him he still heard those low gasps of pain, he shushed him lightly holding him close trying to bring him some comfort as he took him away from the nightmare his apartment mirrored. It was foolish to do so considering Fidds refused to open his eyes anyway but he protectively pushed his friend’s head close to his shoulder not wanting him to take in the sight of his destroyed home. He felt every defaced item here somehow sullied anything else residing in the home so he made no effort to take any of Fidds’s effects or personal items. He would replace his cloths himself and anything else he would need. He had left behind some things in his cabin such as a computer prototype, his spare banjo and his cubic cube he must have missed in his rush to clean up his office space. They would be returned to him gladly once he recovered enough to have them. 

It all felt like a sign more than ever, like Ford was meant to mend his mistakes by mending his friend back to health now. Luck was completely on his side as he left the apartment, no one in sight. The only thing he had taken from Fidds’s home was his car keys to get him home as quickly as possible to begin treating him.   
\---   
Ford put his coat over Fidds during the relatively short car ride noticing the discomfort bright light were giving his friend. 

He considered bringing him down to the lab to make treating his unknown illness easier and have all his medical tools close at hand if anything worse happened but he couldn’t find the courage to put Fidds near the portal knowing it had done this damage. He hoped someday he would see it as only something they created, no different from his computers or robots and they would move past this all. Turn their negative feelings towards it into something positive but right now it would only cause him more pain to see it, so he put him upstairs in his own bed. He wanted him to be as comfortable as possible while he recovered and didn’t want him to have any discomfort on the well-worn couch.   
Fidds’s instantly curled into himself when he laid him upon the bed. He tried to recover his jacket but Fidds had a death grip on it, not liking the idea of once more taking in the bright light. Ford shrugged and allowed him to keep it half running to the lab to gather supplies to treat his friend the best he could. 

When he returned with his bag of hastily thrown in items inside his travel bag, he was relieved to see Fidds still where he left him. Curled tight against the wall and the oversized jacket serving as a barricade from the harsh bright rays sneaking in through the cracks of the curtain. 

Ford hated to do it to him knowing the exposure to light was causing him pain but he needed to do a thorough check up on his health. He took one firm breath to clear his mind of the guilt and then yanked the jacket away from Fidds. The instant the jacket was yanked away, Fidds shielded his face with his hands and curled tighter against the wall.   
“Fidds…” Ford called gently but his words were steady and firm. He received no answer and a violent flinch when he rested his hand on his stiffened shoulders.   
“Do you remember who I am Fidds?” There was no reply but he continued anyway. 

“I’m your friend, Stanford,” he wondered how true that statement was towards this man before he had pulled the trigger. The truth was bittersweet knowing he must have hated him. 

“You had an accident, buddy and I think you’re hurt.” 

The silence continued to stretch, Ford’s hand on Fidds’s shoulder began to sweat as he grew more anxious. What did the device do to his friend? He was showing symptoms of head injury already, had the toxins used to craft it harm him significantly? Or did Fidds remember him and he was too weak to tell him he never wanted to be near him again? 

“Light…hurts…” 

Ford had to strain his ears and bend closer to Fidds to make out the first words he had spoken since he had become conscious. “I know Fidds but please bear with me a moment while I assess your situation better.” 

Ford smiled at the light ruffle of fabric indicating Fidds’s weak nod. He patted his shoulder silently thanking him for his cooperation. 

“I’m sorry but I can’t do this procedure in the dark so you will, I’m afraid, have to make do with the discomfort for only a moment and then I promise I will seal off all the light in this room until you recover enough to deal with it.” 

Fidds neither agreed nor disagreed to Ford’s plan only letting out a pained whine. Ford didn’t want to hold this off any longer only thinking of Fidds health and rolled him over without his full consent. 

He only did a few basics checkup procedure, trying to tell Fidds in advance everything he was doing to get a good estimate on his health status. He could tell Fidds was getting annoyed though and maybe a bit afraid of this person he didn’t seem to remember towering over him, poking and prodding at several parts of his body. Even if Ford did tell him in advance what he was doing, Fidds didn’t seem to catch up with him quickly and tensed up every time he touched even if he didn’t necessarily fight him. 

He didn’t want to alarm him too much so even if he wanted to help him into more comfortable cloths, he let him keep on his suit. Only helping him slip off his shoes, socks, tie, belt and jacket to be a bit more comfortable. He asked to roll up one sleeve, knowing Fidds had always been nervous around needles he didn’t want to alarm him just yet and Fidds didn’t mind his baggy stiff sleeve being bunched up letting his arm breathe a little. 

It wasn’t until he asked to take blood samples and presented the stack of vials he would be using did Fidds finally fight him and object. At the sight of the needle Ford had just taken out of the packaging, Fidds breathing began to increase and his eyes were ajar and he weakly pushed away from Ford's light grasp and turned against the wall in a compact ball shaking his head frantically. Ford held up his hands in momentary defeat and frowned noticing his nose had begun bleeding again after his sharp turn. Fidds eyes clamped shut tighter and he brought his hand to the side of his head, fingers grasping his hair loosely and twitching not having the full strength to pull at it like he normally would in situations like this. Ford set his supplies down on the night stand and sat on the bed next to his friend and rested his hand securely on his twitching fingers. Trying to relax him with the contact but also serving as a warning he would pull his hand away by force if he tried to hurt himself in his presence. 

"Fidds..." 

"Why...do you keep saying that?" Fidds breathed out between the sob lumping in his throat. 

"It's your name, Fidds," he answered trying to make the words come out as soothing as possible, "Don't you remember?" 

It took Fidds several long, silent minutes to get a grasp on the situation he was in. His teeth ground against his lip and soon his exposed teeth were being painted red by the blood lazily continuing to flow from his nostrils. Ford felt his hand beneath his own restlessly squeezing at his hair and he tightened his grip around the hand not wanting Fidds to harm himself further. 

“Fidds, what do you remember?” 

The silence once more began to stretch; it was beginning to feel suffocating. Ford leaned down to try to become more eye level with Fidds and for the first time during their encounter, Fidds physically fought Ford trying to shove him away from him. He didn’t have the strength in him to harm Ford anymore then a summer breeze would but the blood flowing at a quicker rate down his nose told Ford he was doing a great deal of harm to himself. 

Ford caught his struggling wrists and pinned him lightly to the bed, the act stiffened Fidds and tears began bubbling at the corner of his eyes now, Ford felt guilt strike him hard knowing he was the leaving Fidds so trapped and helpless. 

Ford took another calming breath before resting one hand on Fidds’s head, scratching at just the right spot to help bring him some peace of mind before he could continue talking. He took in how helpless, small and frightened the man he loved was and had to remind himself he was going to act irrationally because of his injury. The fact that he didn’t seem to know who he was, let alone who Ford was, he was going to be afraid and that mixed with the head injury spelled trouble if Ford didn’t fix the problems now. 

“I found you this morning after you collapsed, do you remember that?” 

“Yes…” Fidds finally hefted out in a strained breath. 

“Do you recall anything before then?” 

The silence had returned. 

“Your name?”   
“Where you are?”   
“Your family? Friends?”   
“Do you remember me at all Fidds?” 

The sob finally broke past his lips fusing with the barely legible stream of “no’s”. Ford waited patiently for him to calm down enough before continuing what he was saying, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I’m afraid…” The words were shaken and unrecognizable but Ford smiled feeling some confidence he was gaining trust. 

“It’s ok to be afraid sometimes, Fidds. I know you don’t remember but I was scared out of my mind when we first met. The future was one large murky fog and I was facing something alone for the first time in my life like I know you feel like you are now.” He hadn’t been this open about his feelings in a long time, each word felt like a cut from a scalpel opening him wider and letting thoughts and feelings he hadn’t felt in years creep out. Absentmindedly, he reached over to the bag he had brought from the lab and picked up the Cubics Cube he had found earlier. The grinding twists seemed to help calm Fidds more so he continued to mess with it as he talked. 

"You were the only one during orientation happy to be there, going a mile a minute to anyone who would listen about how this may not be the best school but you were willing to tough it out to learn. I wasn't so happy or content but you made those four years easier, you’re my best friend Fidds and the only person in this world I can really trust." A tear began to make its coarse down his cheek remembering how happy they used to be before everything had gone so very wrong. 

"When I found you this morning, I was afraid I would lose you before I had a chance to apologize for being stupid..." 

With a pained grunt, Fidds turned over to enough to face Ford. His bloody, tear streaked face pointed towards him compassion in his eyes, Ford opening up to him seemed to have done the trick. He rested his shaking hand on Ford's, lightly skimming his finger across the cube, a dim spark of recognition there that made Ford smile. He placed the cube in his shaking hands and let him twist around a color before he just let it lie next to him. For once in the short amount of time Fidds had been with Ford, he didn't touch the cube, he left it be for his friend to complete on his own time when he felt better. 

"May I take your blood sample now Fidds? I just want to run some tests to make sure nothing is wrong under the surface." 

Fidds shakily stretched his arm out for Ford expressing his consent wordlessly. He talked about adventures throughout college and heavily romanticized versions of the adventures they had been getting into here in Oregon while he drew the few samples of blood and while he cleaned Fidds up a little. Omitting any mention of the portal or Bill. He didn't mention the memory gun and would only refer to the incident that lead him to this state as the accident even months down the line. Before leaving the room he gave Fidds a light sedative for his pulsing migraine he seemed to be developing that was worsening by the pained sounds Fidds made. 

He looked like he needed the rest honestly, he wasn't one to talk but Fidds had large bags under his eyes that worried Ford. He worried about the state he must have been in before he had done that to himself. It almost felt like a blessing in disguise he had done this and given them both a fresh start and this time their story would end very differently he swore. 

A chill ran down his spine on the way down to the lab to begin testing the samples as he caught the stain glass imagine of Bill always watching over them. He couldn't do this alone and he couldn't drag Fidds into this mess again. 

No, he decided catching sight of his own reflection on a beaker in the lab, he would need help and he knew just the person to turn to.

\---   
He returned to the room instantly after his task of sticking the letter in the mail box hoping the mail man would be returning to his residency after last time when he swore to never come back after some crass but true words Ford had said to him. 

Fidds was still sound asleep, the room pitch black as he left it. He turned on the lights temporarily to check his friend’s health status as quickly as possible hoping the light didn’t disturb his sleep. It was foolish for Ford to even consider it would since this was a drug induced slumber but he still didn’t want his migraine to flare up again. He was satisfied that his pulse was normal and some color was coming back, he looked less corpse like now. 

Ford wrapped his fingers protectively around Fidds’s hand, knowing he wouldn’t be waking soon from his exhausted slumber. 

“I’m going to make this up to you,” he whispered into his ear, “Nothing can hurt you here. You’re going to be happy and I’ll do everything in my power to make certain of that.”   
He settled down next to him, not wanting to venture far from his friend in his state. No different than the nights Fidds stayed close to him on night’s he was filled with worry over his own health. 

They would be nothing more than friends until Fidds made the call, everything would be on his terms for now on he swore.   
He would make him happy this time, they were going to be happy and no demon waiting in the dark was going to stop him from achieving that goal. 

\--- 

Miles away from Ford finally falling asleep next to his fragile friend, Stanly Pines was turning over a poster card inviting him half way across the country, away from the life of crime he had been reduced to, by his brother who he thought he’d lost long ago.


End file.
